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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359527">The Next Best Thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffanddoff/pseuds/quaffanddoff'>quaffanddoff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Six Feet Under</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brother/Sister Incest, Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pregnancy, Season 5 Spoilers, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Throuple, Time Skips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:49:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffanddoff/pseuds/quaffanddoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David asks Claire to donate some of her eggs to him and Keith. Claire suggests an alternative option.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Fisher/Keith Charles, David Fisher/Claire Fisher, David Fisher/Claire Fisher/Keith Charles, Keith Charles/David Fisher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Next Best Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing that Claire saw when she awoke was David's auburn hair illuminated by rays of morning sun. Her photography mind instinctively set to evaluating the scene like an art school crit: overexposed, white balance all out of whack, colors washed out and undersaturated, but a nice effect from the shallow depth of field, blurry except for a crisp, narrow focus on the subject in the center of the frame. Tiny specks of dust drifted in the shaft of light, surrounding her brother's sleeping form like bubbles floating underwater. Her gaze fixed upon his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks then drifted down to survey the morning stubble on his jaw. She rolled toward him, bridging the gap between them to awaken him with a kiss as she loved to do. But this time, just before their lips touched, she hesitated. She'd woken him up this way before, yes, but not without Keith there, as well.</p><p>Keith was their excuse. He was their alibi, their cover story. He was what made any of this possible. He made this make sense. </p><p>Claire had always had difficulty deciding what to name her artwork. With Keith there between them, she could always imagine a decent title for their tableau: something like: <i>Three-way</i>. She could practically see it written on a label stuck to the headboard as if their bed was a piece in a museum exhibit. Or maybe the title was: <i>Bisexuality.</i><br/>
</p><p>Or <i>Adventurousness. </i><br/>
</p><p>Or <i>An Occasional Orgy.</i><br/>
</p><p>Or <i>The New Normal. </i><br/>
</p><p>Or <i>One Big Happy Family. </i></p><p>But Keith was out of town today, and with no Keith, just the two Fishers, the painting had a different title: <i>Incest.</i></p><p>Claire drew back as a chill ran through her. She did not relish the sound of that word or the connotations it conjured. She didn't feel connected to that word, didn't identify with it. That word represented a disgusting, creepy, <i>wrong</i> thing that other people, fucked-up people, did. Not her. Not the two of them. </p><p>What they did was different. Wasn’t it? What they were doing had started out as wholesome and sweet as can be. How nervous and tentative David had been as he’d approached his sister—hard to believe that was only two years ago. She could still remember how he’d tried to conceal his nerves, but she always could see through him when he tried to hide. He had told her that he and his husband wanted to have a child whose DNA combined Charles and Fisher. The Charles part could come from Keith himself but the Fisher part couldn't come from David, so it would have to be from the next best thing.</p><p>Claire was immediately flattered to be considered the closest thing to David. Being close to David in any way was a wonderful thing, whether that meant being genetically similar to him or being emotionally close to him. Even when they weren't getting along or seeing much of each other, there was always a bond between them. There was no one in the family she'd rather be close to. And no one in the family who she'd rather help.</p><p>But this scheme he was proposing had sounded rather terrifying. He hadn't exactly tried his hardest to sell her on the idea. His pitch was less "an offer you can't refuse" and more "alarmingly long disclaimer at the end of a prescription drug commercial." The proposition seemed purposefully intended to freak her out. It was almost as if he <i>wanted</i> her to say no. </p><p>But why would he want that? There was no doubt that he wanted to become a parent. At this point in her life, Claire's maternal instinct had only just begun to kick in, but David had had his sights set on being a father for as long as anyone could remember. It was an essential part of him, the perfect channel for all that caring, nurturing capacity he possessed. </p><p>So he wasn't trying to self-sabotage, but he also wasn't determined to follow this particular route at any cost necessary. He clearly only wanted it if she was comfortable with it. He was trying to put the decision fully in her hands: to give her the chance to back out without feeling guilted or the chance to say yes without feeling pressured. He wanted her to do it on her own terms or not at all. </p><p>She said she'd think about it even as her heart said no. She spent a few days researching the medical procedures involved. They were about as bad as David had advertised: the birth control pills, the menstrual cycle synchronization, the hormone injections, the restrictions against exercise, drinking, or drugs, and freakiest of all, the needle inserted into her vagina. She felt like if she was going to go through all that, she might as well just get pregnant the old-fashioned way. As much as she wanted to help her brother, the idea of egg donation sounded painful and scary, with so much risk and potential to go wrong.</p><p>David had also pointed out the weirdness of being both an aunt and mother to the same child. At the time, she had agreed that it sounded creepy, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt herself coming around to the idea. In fact, something about that aspect actually appealed to her. Giving birth to her brother's child was the last thing she ever would have expected, but when she thought about the connection and attachment it would create between them, it started to feel like it would be an honor to be so permanently and intimately involved in his life.</p><p>Claire had laid on her bed in her room staring at the ceiling while contemplating what it would mean to say yes, what it would mean to say no. The idea of going through with the egg donation was...inconceivable (she snorted at her own private pun). But the prospect of letting David down was just as intolerable. </p><p>She considered her brother's relationship. Keith truly was the perfect match for David. She still clearly remembered the first time she'd ever met Keith. He had caught her eye from across the room like some cliché straight out of a romantic comedy. He was beautiful standing there in his uniform, so solemn and authoritative. He'd looked so amazing that she'd actually sidled up to him and tried to hit on him—right there at her own father's funeral. She found out soon enough that he was totally off-limits for a variety of different reasons, but that didn’t diminish the pull she felt toward him.</p><p>Not too long after that initial meeting, they had ended up alone in a field at night on the side of the road…searching for a severed foot. She cursed the awful coincidence that they kept meeting under such morbid circumstances. Claire had taken the opportunity to ask him what he saw in David. She was never one for sappiness, but his answer had truly moved her. <i>When someone sees you as you really are, and wants to be with you, that’s powerful,</i> he had said. After pondering that a bit, she had responded, <i>I wish I could know the David you know</i>. </p><p>Astonishingly enough, looking back on that exchange, she realized she actually <i>had</i> come to know that David. They had been through so much together since then. For so long, they had merely been growing in parallel to one another, nearby but never intersecting. But for the last few years—ever since Keith had come into their lives, really, and she knew that wasn't a coincidence—they had been growing together, interwoven. They affected one another and, in doing so, changed one another.</p><p>And here was another chance for them to intertwine. She so wanted to take that opportunity. But the sterile, impersonal process of egg donation didn’t feel right. Like David, she wanted to do this on her own terms. She began formulating an idea of what those terms might be...and figuring out how on Earth she was going to explain them to her brother.</p><p>_ _ _ _ _</p><p>Despite his best efforts to relax, David was far too jittery to sit still for even a second. He bit his nails. He paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. Whenever he reached the far end of the living room, nearest to the bedroom, he strained his ears listening, but he couldn't hear anything over the cacophony of his own pounding heartbeat. His mind felt full of static. The blood in his veins felt carbonated. He was a wreck. </p><p>He walked as quietly as he could up to the bedroom door. Ignoring his own better judgment, he pressed one ear to the wood. Finally, he could hear faint sounds from within. Shuffling steps. Rustling fabric. Soft voices: one deep, the other high. He couldn't make out any actual words but the tone of the voices was comfortable, conspiratorial, intimate. </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his back against the door. After a few more deep breaths that failed to calm him, he listened again. It seemed as though the voices had ceased. That was when the real panic hit him. Every doubt, every hesitation, every misgiving, every insecurity—they all poured down on him in a deluge. </p><p>What in God’s name had he been thinking when he'd agreed to this?</p><p>Flagrantly breaking the rules the three of them had specifically outlined, David opened the door. His husband and his sister, their figures silhouetted against the bedside lamp. On top of the sheets, nothing to hide them. Fully clothed—no, wait. Her shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans were unzipped. He was on top of her. Their eyes were closed and they were kissing.</p><p>He saw this vision for only a brief second, because the instant the sound of the door opening registered, they sprang apart guiltily. Keith shifted off Claire, making a discreet adjustment of his jeans in the process. That small gesture alone, and the thought of what it signified, was enough to make David feel like he was about to faint. He grasped the door frame to steady himself.</p><p>A million thoughts passed between the three of them in the ensuing silence. </p><p>David noticed that Claire’s mouth looked a little red—the same thing that happened to him sometimes when Keith had stubble and they fooled around a little too roughly. He flashed to a sudden memory of his sister at four or five years old in the backyard, her mouth stained with strawberry popsicle juice. Holding these two juxtaposing images of the same person felt utterly surreal.</p><p>David was already 14 years old when Claire was born. When he first saw the brand new, helpless, squirming bundle, he could only stare. Until this moment, the whole pregnancy thing had seemed like some project his mom and dad were undertaking that didn't really concern him. Once he saw his little sister, he realized <i>he</i> was different now, too. He was a middle child now. He had always worshiped his big brother, and now he was a big brother in his own right. This new person had just entered his life, but she's already changed him. And that realization filled him with a mixture of shock, confusion, curiosity, jealousy, fear, and profound awe.</p><p>In different ways and for different reasons, many of those same feelings suffused him now. The Claire before him was indeed the same person as that tiny creature, but the vast distinction between the two highlighted the fully independent and autonomous adult she had since grown into. And all of his affection for her, from his dutiful familial love, to his respect for her as a unique, creative, insightful, and admirable human being, had never been laid so bare.</p><p>An instinctual protectiveness flared within him at the sight of his little sister getting physical with this man. But this wasn’t just some man, this was <i>Keith,</i> for God's sake. The one person he trusted without reservation, who knew him better than anyone else, who was always there for him. The man to whom he had eagerly pledged his life, his soul.</p><p>Yet in that brief moment, he didn’t see them as "Claire, his kid sister" or "Keith, his devoted husband." He saw a woman and a man and was deeply stirred by what he felt for each of them.</p><p>He strode across the room to Keith, who was kneeling on the bed. Keith flinched as if expecting to be struck. But when he looked closer at David, it took only a fraction of his vast compendium of his knowledge of David’s inner workings to recognize that David was immensely turned on. </p><p>He leaned down to seize Keith in a fierce kiss.</p><p>Keith’s body reciprocated instinctively, but his mind lagged behind, whirling frantically as he tried to assimilate this new development. The three of them had meticulously planned everything that was and wasn’t going to happen tonight. It was supposed to be a pragmatic, clinical step in the fertilization process, more akin to a science project than real sex. At no point had David’s involvement ever been discussed as an option or even mentioned at all. But now, seized by an apparently unforeseen impulse, David was spontaneously throwing all their careful negotiations out the window. The rulebook was gone; it was all improvisation from here on out. </p><p>The two had kissed a million times before, but somehow this time felt like the very first. It was bizarre to feel as though his own husband was a total stranger. The rapid transition from Claire’s kiss to David’s was made all the more disorienting by the way that the two pairs of lips were obviously different, yet shared some curious similarities in shape, feel, and even taste.</p><p>Claire was also stunned. She remained frozen as she watched her brother embrace the same man she had been embracing just moments ago. Her numbness was the only thing that prepared her for what David did next. Without disengaging from Keith, his hand reached out and seized the collar of Claire’s open shirt. Gently but insistently, he pulled her in closer. Reflexively, she tried to pry his hand off, but he held on with an iron grip. She didn’t look down at the hand because she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the point where the two men’s mouths met. She stopped resisting David’s force and allowed herself to be drawn in close.</p><p>Only when Keith’s back arched did Claire notice that David’s other hand had taken advantage of Keith’s open fly, sliding down into the front of his jeans and rubbing the substantial bulge it found there. A few minutes ago, Claire had felt that same bulge pressing against her thigh as Keith had pinned her down to the bed, and then her fingers had grazed it as she had unzipped his jeans. She was already fired up from those brief touches and the thoughts of everything she anticipated coming next. But her interactions with that bulge were downright demure compared to the treatment David was now giving it. He groped his husband firmly with a confidence borne of years of intimate familiarity. His fingers moved automatically, expertly, fondling Keith’s cock until it strained against his underwear.</p><p>Claire’s body reacted to the sight and its implications instantly; she felt almost winded by the wave of arousal that swept through her. Part of her reaction was due to Keith’s impressive erection, but if she was being honest with herself, another part was witnessing David’s utterly self-assured competence. It was such a contrast to his usual uptight respectability. The fact that he knew exactly how to stroke a man to full hardness in a matter of seconds was at once surprising, intimidating, and undeniably sexy. Involuntarily, her mind supplied her with images of what effect that skillful, dexterous hand might have if it applied its capabilities toward her own body. She flushed with a combination of excitement and shame.</p><p>She quickly suppressed the unbidden thought, but as if reading her mind, David chose that moment to loosen his grip on her shirt and slide his hand downward. It grazed her breast as it glided down her sternum, her ribs, her stomach, and paused just above the waistband of her skirt.</p><p>David searched Claire's eyes intently. It appeared as though he found whatever it was he was looking for in them, because he took a deep breath, grasped her skirt, and tugged it down her thighs. She was naked underneath. Both siblings trembled a little as he reached for her. Two of his fingers combed their way through her reddish thatch. The fingers traveled lower and lower until there was nowhere else to go but in. As he entered her, she heard herself moaning, gasping out any curse words she could think of, until she could no longer think much of anything anymore.</p><p>All too soon, David withdrew glistening fingers. He contemplated them for a minute, then put them in his mouth and sucked. Claire could barely make herself watch her brother’s cheeks hollow as he tasted her.</p><p>“She’s ready,” he said to Keith. “He’s ready, too,” he added to Claire.</p><p>“David, you crazy motherfucker…” Keith began, shaking his head in disbelief, but trailed off without completing his thought. Instead, he laid down on the bed and tugged his jeans the rest of the way off. He pulled a dazed-looking Claire on top of him and positioned her hips just above his bare cock, which stood upright, stiffer than ever. “You still wanna do this?” he asked her.</p><p>Claire’s cheeks were aflame, nearly matching the color of her hair, which was mussed from all their exertions. Her appearance gave her a wild, slightly delirious air, but she sounded absolutely certain as she replied, “Fuck, yes.”</p><p>She was just about to sink down onto Keith when David reached out and held her face in his hands for a moment. “Thank you,” he whispered before kissing her gently, bestowing his blessing.</p><p>_ _ _ _ _</p><p>Claire was still hovering just above David, trying to decide what to do, when his eyes fluttered open. The moment his pupils focused on her, he smiled. “Hey,” he greeted her. Untroubled by the fears that were currently plaguing her, he tilted his face up to kiss her with no hesitation.</p><p>She savored the kiss, but by the time it was over, tears were already filling her eyes. The sight served to wake him up fully. "Hey," he said again, concerned this time, "what's wrong?"</p><p>"I don't know... This, maybe? Us? You and me in bed together naked. Isn't that wrong?"</p><p>David was quiet for a long, thoughtful moment. For a second it looked like he might start crying, too. Instead, a look of firm resolve eventually settled upon his face. "No," he said simply. </p><p>"'No?' That's it? You're my brother, you're gay, I've been fucking you and your husband whenever I get a chance for the last two years, and a year ago I gave birth to our child. Are you <i>absolutely</i> sure none of this is wrong?"</p><p>"I'm sure," David said, in a tone Claire found maddeningly serene.</p><p>"How are you so sure?" she demanded. </p><p>"Just look at Jackson," David replied, nodding his head toward the far end of the room. On the other side of that wall was Jackson's bedroom, where the child was no doubt still asleep. "You can't take one look at our kid and still think what we did was wrong."</p><p>"Of course having him wasn't wrong. I could never regret that. But...I could have just fucked Keith that one time and we could have had Jackson. That's where we should have left it. That's as far as we should've taken it." Claire was only getting more emotional. "It's not okay that you and me started sleeping together. It's not okay that we're <i>still</i> sleeping together! For God's sake, I mean...it's incest. That's the fucked-up part! Why did you have to ruin everything?" </p><p>Claire wasn't expecting David to seize her shoulders and roll on top of her at that very moment. She was so surprised that she stopped crying before she'd really begun. And before she could speak, he'd lowered his mouth to hers. His weight, his warmth, even the smell of his breath and his sweat were all so perfect, surrounding her like joy embodied. His fingers tangled in her hair, his tongue slipped into her mouth, and his cock hung hard between her thighs. She felt enveloped by him, encased in his manifest devotion to her. </p><p>Before too long, he pulled back. "Does this feel wrong to you?"</p><p>Claire let out a shuddering breath. "Fuck, no," she declared. </p><p>"Then we're in agreement." He rocked his hips against hers, pressing down at an angle, nearly breaching her. She felt the pleasure drop into her depths and spread in ripples throughout her body. "Let's have another kid," he suggested suddenly. </p><p>"Umm. Just you and me this time?" she asked skeptically, summoning the last of her capability for rational thought, although her mind was already drifting off into a much more suggestible place. "You sure that's a good idea?"</p><p>"Maybe not," David admitted, shifting position. He aligned the tip of his bare cock and groaned as he slid into her cunt anyway. "We should wait for Keith," he grunted.</p><p>"Yeah, let's wait..." Claire murmured, but then he began moving deep inside her, and nothing else coherent was said by either for a while. Soon enough, Claire would be gone, back to her own home and her own life. Soon enough, David would be back at work, back to dodging others' expectations and judgments, mired as usual in death and sorrow. Of course it wasn't all apprehension—he looked forward to tending to his son and welcoming his husband home. But for now, for just a few more stolen moments, he and his sister had nothing else to do in the world but make this glorious mistake together, to stay in bed a little longer, filling each other up with life.</p>
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